Fated Bond: Book 1 of the Faelinn Chronicles by Sarah Husch

Author:Sarah Husch
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Souls Road Press

Chapter Thirteen

Jonathan pummeled his pillow, trying to beat it into a comfortable shape. He’d been lying there for hours and sleep was no closer than it had been when he’d first crawled under the comforter. He couldn’t get the feel of her out of his mind. More to the point, his body wouldn’t let him forget. The addictive flavor of her mouth, the jasmine scent of her skin. The way her body had felt under his hands, soft and firm all at once. She was making him insane.

It was a good thing she was leaving in the morning.

Trying and failing to find a good spot on the pillow, he flung it across the room. It thumped into the wall and dropped onto his shoes. It was no use. His cell phone blared on the table beside him and with intense relief, Jonathan grabbed it.

“It’s Brown,” the voice said with no preamble. “The fence has been compromised. A pickup crashed right through it.”

Jonathan was already reaching for the jeans thrown over the back of the chair by the window. He listened to the concise report, verified that men were already heading for the breach, and hung up. He was out of the house in less than three minutes.

Cateera answered his mental call immediately. The Faelinn had their own alert system and were already spreading through the woods, silent, deadly hunters. They would find anyone who had entered the Haven.

He took the mountain curves too fast, but he knew the roads and could drive them in his sleep. Lights were visible through the bare-branched trees before he reached the breach. He pulled up behind two security vans, angling the SUV so that his headlights joined theirs to illuminate the scene. A black pickup had crashed through the fence. The chain-link had snagged on the undercarriage and been dragged across the road and then into the drainage ditch before the truck had stopped, nose pointing down. The Haven’s emergency system had cut off the fence’s electricity, but not before sparks had blackened patches of the ground.

“Where’s the driver?” he demanded, ground-eating strides carrying him to the truck. Brown grass thick with frost crunched under his feet.

“Take a look,” Brown answered. He pointed to the open driver’s side door, his flashlight picking out the dark interior. Jonathan peered in. He took the flashlight from Brown, aiming it around the empty interior. The key was still in the ignition. One key, no ring.

“The door was already open but I did turn off the engine,” Brown said. “Used gloves.” He waggled his latex-covered fingers. “Nothing else has been touched.”

“Good man,” Jonathan said.

Meticulously, he directed the light around the cab. It was clean, no dust lingering on the dash, no smudges to be seen on the windows. Pulling on his own pair of gloves, he eased open the ashtray. Empty, not even a lingering trace of ash. The glove compartment was spotless and empty. There were still vacuum marks on the floor’s worn carpet. Jonathan stepped back to survey the entire truck.

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